


Manners

by looking_past_the_stars



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, UKUS, USUK - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-10 09:05:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5579584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/looking_past_the_stars/pseuds/looking_past_the_stars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What America gains in strength he lacks greatly in manners and tact. After being told this by England, he sets out to prove to the Brit he is wrong. But where will this mission take their relationship?<br/>(UsUk story. Rated for language and possible romantic situations in the future.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Be Rude

Meetings were something any working person dreads. Sitting through several hours of listening to someone you particularly don’t like talk about situations you don’t want to talk about, is never a fun experience. 

England was no exception to this. 

As a nation, he was required to attend world conferences, and that didn’t make it any easier to sit through them. 

England sighed, rapidly tapping his fingers on the hardwood table in a wave like motion. The room was dark and smelled like cigarette smoke. Sneaking a glance to his left he found the source of the smell, from a faint orange glow in between France’s lips. Did he  _ really _ have to smoke in here? At least England has the tact to hold out until the meeting was over. He sighed. What he would give for one of those right now. It would more than likely ease the pain coming from Russia’s speech from the front of the room. 

Turning his attention back in front of him, he spotted America who was tapping his pen on the hard surface of the table, flipping it over in his fingers so each end would meet the table. The boy’s blue eyes held a bored glare and his lips were drawn together in a tight line as if he was holding in a yawn. England bit his own bottom lip. Those American’s lips drove him mad every time he laid eyes on them. He hated it. If only the American wasn't such a dumbass, he would actually try something with him. But getting together with America would probably cause his IQ to plummet.

“...That, my comrades, is how I stand on the topic.” 

England fell off of his cloud nine and brought his eyes to look at Russia who was leaving the podium with a satisfied grin on his face. The Brit sighed in relief. Who knew someone could talk so extensively about nuclear power? He silently thanked God he was hosting so he could quickly go home. 

He stood up, smoothing his suit jacket down, and walked behind the podium. ‘Thank you Russia. If no one else has anything to say on this matter, I think this would be a good place to conclude the conference. It’s getting late.” The room was filled with nods of approval. England smiled. “Well then, I’ll see you all in Ottawa next month. Have a safe trip home and thank you for your time.” 

With a few sighs of relief, the countries began to say their farewells to each other before leaving the room. Leaning over the table, England snapped his brief case closed, then turned and made his way to the door. 

“England!”

Pausing the Brit looked over his shoulder. Canada was walking towards him. He smiled at the Canadian and shook his hand. “Hello Canada.”

Canada smiled. “Evening, England.” He slid his hands back in his pockets. “I just wanted to thank you for hosting. I love coming to your place.”

A genuine smiled stretched across England’s face. “Thank you Canada. I must say I feel the same way about your country. I can’t wait to visit next month.”

Canada opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a hand, slapping his shoulder, jerking him forward. “Hey, let’s go dude! You don’t want Tony and Kuma ripping each other apart do you?” 

Canada’s smile immediately faded. “Jesus Al.”

America’s smile faltered. “What?” 

Canada nodded towards England, who waved halfheartedly. “Hello America.” The nation greeted him flatly. “I see you still lack the important skill called  _ manners.” _

America frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The Brit groaned and turned his attention back to Canada. He plastered on his best fake smile. “Good evening Canada.” With that he strode past the North American’s, catching a brief, harsh whisper of Canada scolding America. England rolled his eyes. “ _ Moron _ .”

* * *

 

“Well that was rude.”

Canada scoffed and glared at his twin. “What? England getting pissed at you for interrupting our conversation?”

America shrugged. “I didn't interrupt you.” The Canadian rolled his eyes. “I just interjected a very good point. That’s all.”

“England’s right,” Canada stated flatly, pushing the double doors open, leading the countries into a frosty night air. “,you do lack a lot in manners.”

America frowned. “I do not.”

Canada laughed. “Yes you do.” He rotated his arm and groaned. “I think you dislocated my shoulder as well, you jerk.”

“You’re fine.” America smiled and whistled, sticking his hand up at an approaching cab. “Besides, you’ve taken harder hits.”

Canada rolled his eyes. “Well most of them are not unexpected or from you, Al.”

A black taxi approached the two, stopping  with the back doors just in front of them. America opened the door for Canada, climbing in after him. 

“Where to?” The driver asked looking at them through the rearview mirror.

“Victory Plaza Hotel please.” America directed as he buckled his seatbelt. The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb without a word. Looking over at Canada, the American smiled. “I said  _ please _ . See I have manners.”

Canada shook his head, chuckling a little. “I guess that’s a start.”

* * *

 

“Fuck off puffball!”

“Mine!”

“Fuck off!” Tony growled, snatching the remote away from the polar bear,  _ again _ . Kumajiro narrowed his eyes, growing angry at the gray alien. His attention was soon driven away from the small gray man when the a lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing America and Canada. 

The bear quickly scurried over to Canada, who scooped him up and smiled. “Hey Kermit.”

“ _ Kuma _ , Matt.”

“That’s what I said.” He smiled and poked the bear’s nose. “How was your day with Tony?” The glanced at the alien who was now watching TV on the couch and let a low growl rumble in his chest. Canada laughed. “That bad, huh?”

America sighed, making his way to the couch. Plopping down next to the alien, he snatched the remote away from his hands and began channel surfing. “Hey, that was mine you pudgy bastard!”

America rolled his eyes. “Tony, I’ve had a long day. Shut it.”

The alien jumped up and stomped away past Canada, mumbling profanities. “I think we need to teach  _ both _ of you manners.” Canada looked at America who was now slouching on the sofa, eyes locked on the TV screen. “What are you watching?”

“Doctor Who.”

Canada raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you liked Doctor Who.”

He shook his head. “I don’t, but I like space stuff, so it’s worth it.”

“As well as anything to do with England.” America snapped his head towards Canada, glaring daggers at him. He laughed. “You know it’s true.”

“I don’t  _ like  _ England. He’s a old grumpy fart that wants nothing to do with me.” America grumbled, sinking further into the couch. 

Canada smiled and set Kumajiro down on the ground. “And you’re an annoying young jerk who wants everything to do with him.” The American scoffed. “Deny it all you want, but I see the way you look at him.”

“With disgust?”

“With  _ desire _ .”

That got America to sit up and turn around. He looked at Canada with a look of utter horror. “That’s fucking gross dude. He’s like a billion years older than me.”

Canada shrugged. “Age is just a number.”

America scoffed. “You would say that.” Canada’s smile faltered. “By the way, how is  _ France  _ doing?”

The Canadian frowned and crossed his arms. “ _ Really _ ?”

America shrugged and turned back to the TV. “You started it.”

Canada sighed and walked into his room followed by Kumajiro, shutting the door swiftly behind them. America’s lips stretched into a victorious smile. “I win.”

“France is doing _ very _ fine, thank you very much.” Canada called before closing his door again.

America frowned. “Gross but...touché.”


	2. Shoot First

“Would you like that hot or iced, sir?”

England stared at the teen behind the counter. Her smile was so forced it almost looked painful. He sighed. “Hot, please.” Who on Earth wanted their tea cold in December?

The girl hastily typed in the order before handing the nation his credit card and receipt back. “Thank you Mr. Kirkland. Have a nice day!”

England nodded. “You as well.” Grabbing a newspaper along the way, England walked towards a circle of cushioned armchairs. He sat down and sighed happily. Sometimes he forgot to savor the feeling of being off his feet. Flipping the paper open, he scanned the first page which was mostly sports and and update on some puppy fashion show taking place in town the following week. England rolled his eyes. American newspapers had to be the biggest waste of paper in the world. “Only a country like America’s would cover useless crap like this.” He mumbled to himself before flipping to the next page which covered something about gun control.

“Arthur!”

England looked up. On of the baristas was holding up his drink and looking around the store. “Arthur Kirkland!?”

England jumped up and jogged over to the man holding his tea. “That’s me.” The barista smiled and handed him his drink. “Thank you sir.” Taking a hold of his drink, England dropped the paper back where he found it and headed for the door. He took a quick sip of the drink, jerking his head back quickly. “Agh, hot.” The nation shook his head. The drink was much to hot to enjoy now, he would have to wait. He reached for the door to push it open but slapped his hand down when the door opened itself.

“Oh! Hey there!”

England sighed. It seemed the door was not automatic, but was opened by unfortunately familiar blond man. The Brit sank into the wool scarf around his neck. “Hello Alfred.”

America grinned and stepped inside the store, making England take a few steps back into the shop. “What are you doin’ here E-, eh, Arthur?”

Rolling his eyes at the slip up, England huffed. “I wanted to get something to drink before I began work.”

America chuckled. “No I mean what are you doing here.” England stared at him. “Like in America.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The Brit shoved a hand in his coat pocket and looked past America at the doors. “Honestly I have no idea.” It was America’s turn to stare. “The PM wanted to visit the States and as per usual, I was forced to tag along.”

America’s smile faltered. “Oh, well I would hate for you to feel forced to be here.” England’s stomach dropped. He should have said something else. “Why don’t we spend the day together?”

“Didn’t you hear me say I have to work?” England asked impatiently, gripping his cup tighter. “I don’t have time to dilly-dally.”

America snickered. “You sound so old when you say that stuff, Arthur.” England huffed in annoyance. “Okay look, you’re  _ always _ working. Why don’t we have some coffee here and chat for a few.” The Brit raised an eyebrow. “And then you can get to work. Sound cool?”

England sighed and looked at his watch. “Alright, but not for too long. I do have a lot to get done before the end of the night.”

The American smiled. “Cool beans! I’m gonna get some coffee, so why don’t you get a table for us?” England nodded and couldn't help but smile at America when he shot him a charming grin and jogged towards the cashier to order his drink.

* * *

 

 

“I don’t know where you get your logic but, you are completely wrong.” America frowned. “As usual.”

His frown grew. “Dude, you don’t even know what you’re talking about.” England scoffed and America smirked. “It’s obvious Han shot first.”

“I disagree.”

“Have you even seen the movies?”

England smiled. “Most of them.”

“Then you can’t even talk!” America threw his hands into the air, drawing more attention then England would have liked. The American slouched back in his seat and stared at England. They had been talking for at least an hour now with coffee and tea long gone, only their words were keeping them together. England swirled his empty cup around and brought his eyes to the floor. America coughed. “So,”

England brought his eyes up. “Hm?”

“Do you like it here?”

The other nation stared in confusion. “Do I like the Starbucks?”

America laughed. “No. Do you like it here?” England remained silent. “In America.”

The Brit sat back. “Oh, well, yes. I do.”

America tilted his head to the side a bit. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you  _ like _ , America?”

England’s stomach jumped. “Excuse me?” America nodded. England cursed himself as he felt the blood rush to his face. Did America mean for his questions to sound how it sounded to him? The Brit couldn’t tell due to the fact they were in a public place surrounded by humans. Was he asking about himself as a netion or his land? “Well...I think it’s a very nice place.”

America’s eyes narrowed slightly but he leaned back into his chair, allowing England’s breath he didn't know he was holding to come out. “Cool.”

Cool? All those answer’s got him was a simple,  _ cool _ ? England narrowed his eyes. “Do you want to know what I think about England?” America smiled. “I like England.” His smile morphed into a smirk and his eyes sparkled. “I like  _ England _ , a lot.”

England’s blood froze at how America practically purred his name causing him to involuntarily shiver. He huffed. “I think this conversation is over, Am-” He sighed. “Alfred.”

America frowned. “Why?”

“I have work to do, I told you that.” He stood up. “Good evening, Alfred.”

America nodded looking out the window away from England. “Later, eyebrows.”

* * *

 

_ “Eyebrows? Really Al?” _

America rolled onto his stomach and groaned into the armrest of the couch. “Dude, I was pissed. He just left without a reason.”

_ “Well maybe it was because you were being a jerk.” _ America scoffed and Canada chuckled on the other side of the phone.

“I was not being a jerk. I was flirting! Isn't that what you wanted me to do?”

Canada sighed. _ “No Al, I wanted you to use manners. What you did was the exact opposite.” _ America rolled back over and opened his mouth to retort, but his brother cut him off.  _ “And don’t say flirting us using manners, because it isn’t.” _

America huffed. “Fine, then what do you suggest I do?”

_ “Do something nice. Take him to dinner or a movie...or something! Just don’t be a jerk to him.” _ Canada sighed.  _ “Also, calling him eyebrows isn’t going to help.” _

America groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I’m doin this.”

_ “I can.” _

“Shut up.” America glanced at the TV where Doctor Who was on. “Dude, I don’t even know if the guy likes me. I mean he’s way older than me and he think’s I’m a moron-.”

_ “Ok first of all, stop with this age stuff. None of us are technically young. We only look it. And secondly, you are a moron, so just shut up and ask him.” _ America looked away from the TV and up to the ceiling. _ “Aren’t you always saying you’re the Hero? You’re not supposed to be afraid of anything, right? Shoot first, Al." _

America sighed and chuckled. “Alright, alright. Thanks bro.”

Canada sniffed, America could imagine him smiling on the other line.  _ “Sure thing, Al. Good luck.” _

“Thanks.” He sighed and hung up, still staring at the ceiling. “I’m gonna need it.”

* * *

 

England snorted and let out a short laugh. “Like bloody well I will!”

France smiled and nodded.  _ “Well, you want something to come out of this don’t you?” _

England scoffed, glaring at the Skype screen. “I don’t just want a quick shag from him, frog.” France shrugged. “Some of us have tact.”

France mimicked fake hurt.  _ “You wound me, Angleterre.” _ England rolled his eyes and France laughed, wholeheartedly.  _ “What I am saying is, when dealing with America, you need to make the first move.” _

“Why me?”

“ _ Because America is a child.” _

England groaned. “Don’t say that! You make me sound like a pedophile!”

The Frenchman chuckled.  _ “You’re not a pedophile England. You’re in love.” _

“I am  _ not _ in love with America.”

_ “Oh but you are.” _ France’s smile grew.  _ “And you, mon ami, need to do something about it. So either take the chance, or be alone forever.” _

England huffed. “Oh, what fun you make this out to be.”

_ “Besides, if you two do get together,” _ England raised an eyebrow at France’s picture in his laptop.  _ “,sex with America will be tres bien.” _ France purred winking.

England glared at the webcam. “Why do I even bother asking you these things?”

France chuckled. _ “Because I’m French! I know these things.” _

Without another word, England slapped his laptop closed and leaned back in his chair. “Idiot.” But he knew France was right.

It would be very, very good.


	3. Volare

America was usually a pretty cool person. He could talk to people freely, without breaking a sweat. 

Obviously this moment, while he white-knuckled the steering wheel and drove down the highway, was an exception. He sighed. “Jesus dude, get a hold of yourself. It’s just England.” He ran a hand through his dampening hair. Bringing his hand to the radio he flipped it on, allowing music to fill the car. “You’re just going to stop buy, and ask him to dinner. No big deal.” He shook his head and turned the car into the exit, leading towards England’s hotel. “Just don’t fuck it up America.”

* * *

 

“Oh for God’s sake!” England slapped his hand down and rolled his eyes at the TV in front of him. “What kind of idiot misses a shot like that!” The football game playing on the television carried on despite England’s cursing. Who knew his country's team could make so many mistakes. “Fucking ref doesn’t know what the Hell he is talking about.” England mumbled to himself, stuffing his hand back in the bowl of caramel popcorn, compliments of the hotel. 

_ Knock, knock, knock. _

Jumping slightly at the rapid banging on his room door, England quickly set the bowl of junk food down and stood up. He didn't remember ordering room service. He looked down at his clothing, he wasn’t exactly dressed for company either. When three more knocks came from the door he padded barefoot to the door and looked through the peephole.  On the other side America stood, fiddling with the strings of his gray hoodie, almost in a nervous manner. England sighed and unlocked the door before opening it. He set a hand on his hip and shot an impatient look at America. “What are you doing here?”

America’s eyebrows rose up a bit. “Whoa, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but dress pants.”

Looking down at his own jean clad legs he shrugged. “I didn’t think that I needed to dress up to be in my own hotel room.” He looked back up at America. “Again, I must ask; why are you here?”

America sighed. “Well I em...I wanted to ask if you wanted to grab a bite to eat?” 

England’s heart practically dropped into his stomach but he kept his face calm. “You’re asking me out for dinner?” America nodded. “Well...” England checked his watch. “It is rather late and I’ve only eaten the hotel’s junk food, so I suppose it wouldn't hurt.”

The usual wide grin spread across America’s face. “Great!”

England nodded. “Let me just grab some shoes and a jacket. I’ll meet you in the hallway.” America nodded again, before England shut the door and practically sprinted to his bedroom to grab his things. 

* * *

 

America bit his lip once the door was shut and immediately fished out his cell phone. Unlocking the screen he pulled up his and Canada's conversations and began typing. 

_ Oh my god dude it worked. He said yes... _

Within a few seconds his brother responded. 

**_Told you. See I’m always right._ **

America snorted and typed back. 

_ Shut it. I’m the one who asked.  _

**_Oh yeah sure. Just remember what I said and don’t be an asshole. Ok?_ **

He rolled his eyes and began typing quickly as footsteps began approaching the door. 

_ Yeah sure bro. I gotta go, England's coming. _

**_That was quick ;) I’ll see you later. Good luck, Al._ **

America snickered and shoved his phone in his pocket just as the door opened and England stepped out, dressed in darker jeans, black shoes and a button up brown jacket. He smiled quickly at America as he wrapped a scarf around his neck. “Are you going to be warm enough in that jacket?” He asked as he shut the door. 

America shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” Like Hell he was going to admit he forgot his heavy jacket due to his nerves over asking the Brit out. 

England turned around and raised an eyebrow at the American. “If you say so.” He smiled and motioned forward. “Lead the way.”

* * *

 

The car ride was terribly and awkwardly quiet. England had glued his eyes outside the window of the passenger’s seat and occasionally America would sneak quick glances over at the Brit, his smile faltering at England's mental absence in the car. He sighed loudly driving England out of his daze. 

He looked over at America, just catching him snapping his head back towards the road. “So America, where are you taking me?”

America smirked. “Surprise.”

“ _ Fantastic _ .” America laughed. “Just please don’t take me to McDo-.”

“We’re here!” The car shifted into park. England ducked down to peer out the windshield  to look at the building in front of them. He nodded. “Alright, I guess I can give this a go.”

* * *

 

“Table for two please. It should be under Alfred Jones.” America grinned at the hostess and held up two fingers. 

After looking briefly at a computer screen, she smiled and grabbed two menus. “Alright then, follow me please.” 

England looked over at America, surprised. “You made reservations?” 

“Well, yeah. I wanted to make sure we got a table. This place is usually pretty busy.” He said matter-of-fact and shrugged. 

The hostess set the menus on a booth table and stepped back. “Your waiter will be with you shortly. Enjoy your meal.” England smiled at the woman and began to slide into the booth seat. 

“Wait!” England looked at America, surprised at his outburst. “Let me take your jacket.”

England was taken aback. “Ah, you don’t have to Alfred- _ ah _ !” He let out an involuntary shout as America quickly closed the distance between them and slid England’s jacket off of him. He coughed, embarrassed slightly after his outburst. “Thank you.”

America smiled and hung the jacket on a small hook attached to the side of the booth seat. “You’re welcome.” He sat down across from England and sighed. “So, do you like it?”

The Brit swept his eyes along the restaurant which was more like a palace. The room was dimly lit and decorated to look like a courtyard/garden one would find in the countryside of Italy. A large fountain sprinkled with grape vines behind England sent the soothing sound of running water his way accompanied with the mesmerizing voice of Dean Martin that drifted through the room. Bringing his eyes back to america, England let a genuine smile grace his lips. “Yes, I do like it, very much.”

America’s grin grew. “Good.”

* * *

 

_ Volare, oh oh oh _

_ Cantare, oh oh oh oh _

England leaned back in his seat and sighed happily letting Dean Martin’s voice drift through his ears. “God, that was a fantastic meal. I hope you plan to let me pay for my share of this Alfred.”

America smirked mischievously. “Never. What kind of date would this be if you payed for yourself?” England’s eyebrows raised at his comment, but before he could reply, America reached over the table and touched his hand. “Let’s dance.”

England laughed. “What? In the middle of a restaurant?”

America nodded. “Yeah! People are dancing over there. That’s what the huge empty space is for!” England looked over in the middle of the room and sure enough, a large portion of the cobblestone floor was covered in hard wood for a dance floor where some people were slowly swaying to the music. “Come on...”

England looked up at America and sighed. “Alfred-.” The American stuck his lower lip out slightly, shifting his face to mimic a slight pout. Defeated, England let his pride fall and his eyes roll a bit. “Alright, fine.”

America smiled brightly. “Well then-.” He stood up and crossed the booth length to bow in front of the seated Brit. “May I have this dance?” He grinned, holding out his hand. 

England chuckled and took the outstretched hand. “Why thank you, sir.” He allowed the American to pull him out of his seat and lead him onto the floor. America twirled England slightly, allowing him to place a hand on his lower back and the other in his hand. 

_ Let’s fly way up to the clouds. _

_ Away from the maddening crowds. _

England placed his hand on America’s shoulder and before he knew it, they were gliding around the floor to the music. 

_ We can sing in the glow of a star that I know of. _

_ Where lovers enjoy peace of mind. _

England soon found himself lost in the American’s eyes, the blue pulling him in, closer and closer to the American’s face.  Once America noticed England’s involuntary leaning, he blushed a deep red, but began to lean forward as well.

_ Let us leave the confusion and all disillusion behind. _

_ Just like bird of a feather, a rainbow together we'll find. _

Their eyes slowly began to shutter closed as they leaned forward, close together. Only a breath apart, lips almost touching. 

And that’s when he felt it. 

Something cold, dripping on England’s head. Opening his eyes slowly, he realized it wasn’t just a small drip. It was pouring water all around them and somewhere in the background, a high pitched siren was going off. 

“Fire in the kitchen, please evacuate the restaurant!” Someone behind them screamed.

America gasped causing England to look up at him. He was soaked to the bone from the sprinklers on the ceiling. He blinked rapidly as his glasses began to fog up. “Come on!” He yelled, pulling England towards the door. Looking back England spotted the flames through the round kitchen door windows. Glaring at the flames he lifted his hand up and threw “the bird” at it just before they ran through the restaurant's front entrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song featured in this chapter was the version of Volare (Nel Blu Di Pinto Di Blu) recorded by Dean Martin.  
> I'd also like to thank everyone for the positive and super sweet feedback about the story! I'm glad everyone is enjoying it!  
> Thank you!! :)


	4. Feeling Fancy

The ride back home wasn’t as bad as it was to the restaurant. America chuckled. “Well that was... _ different _ .”

England rolled his eyes. “Yes it was.”

Looking away from the road briefly, America stole a quick glance at England. He was slouched in his seat, arms crossed and his lips drawn together in a tight line. America smirked, looking back towards the road. “Are you  _ pouting? _ ”

England huffed. “I would never-.”

“Oh my God, you are!” The Brit scowled at the America who laughed as he turned the car up a long dirt driveway. “How about I cheer you up with some refreshments at my place?”

England looked out of the windshield when the car was thrown into park. They were indeed at America’s house. “I thought you were taking me home?”

America shrugged as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I feel like the date didn’t get it’s fill.” 

“Date?” England raised his eyebrows and watched America get out of the car. He unbuckled his own seatbelt before opening the door and stepping out onto the concrete driveway of the house. England whistled. “Isn’t this house a bit big for just you?”

“Well then, why don’t you come inside and help me fill it up a bit more?” He turned away from punching in the garage code to shoot a wink at the now blushing Brit. 

The garage slowly rose and the two countries walked inside. England looked around the TV room they were now standing in while America closed the door behind them. “Welcome to mi casa.” America smiled and walked into the kitchen.

England nodded. “It’s nicer than I expected.” 

America’s head popped up from behind a counter. “Excuse me?”

England chuckled and waved his hand, dismissing his comment. “Nothing.” He walked toward the kitchen and took a seat on a bar stool in front of the counter. “You said something about refreshments?”

America nodded and opened a cabinet, revealing an assortment of alcohol bottles. “Do you have any preferences?”

Tapping his chin, England smirked. “Well, I am feeling a bit fancy tonight.”

“White wine then?” America spun around holding a wine bottle by the neck and two glasses in the other. 

England shrugged. “I was thinking bourbon but I guess that works.”

America laughed and poured two glasses. He set the bottle down and lifted his glass up. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” England smiled and lightly touched their glasses, making a small  _ clicking  _ noise. After taking a quick sip he sighed. “I do have to say, this night was not what I expected it to be.”

America shook his head and looked down at his watch. “Ditto.” Had it gone is was, they would have just finished at the restaurant and would be headed home. With additional making out in the car before they left. “Sorry about the restaurant.”

England laughed. “Don’t be. Besides, we got some coupons for the next date.” America paused mid drink to look at England who immediately started to turn bright red. “I em..h-how about some music then?” He choked out, getting up to walk towards the stereo, wine in hand. 

America sighed. “England.”

The Brit took a large gulp, downing the rest of the glass. “How do you turn the damn thing on.” He mumbled pressing and twisting various knobs and buttons. 

“England.”

“What?” He looked up from his task, coming almost eye to eye with America who had moved, quite fast he might add, in front of him. 

A small smile graced the American’s lips. He sighed. “Fuck the music, man.”

England raised an eyebrow. “Language.”

America laughed. “I don’t want to listen to music.” Feeling bold he added; “I want to listen to  _ you _ .” The blush returned to England’s face. America reached out and set his hand on England’s jaw line, bravery suddenly surging through his body.  “Scratch that.  _ I want to kiss you. _ ” Or it was possibly just stupidity.

“What?” England breathed. 

Without a word, America leaned forward and pressed his lips onto England’s. The Brit’s eyes widened, but he didn’t move away. To his surprise, he pressed into the American’s lips more, coaxing him to tilt his head and open his mouth, deepening the gentle kiss. 

Shortly after they both pulled away. America’s reddened lips curved upward into a handsome grin, causing England’s heart to clench. “Boy this night just keeps getting better and better.” England nodded quietly, still staring at America. The American’s eyes darkened and he leaned in again, whispering into England’s ear. “Let’s make it even better, now.”

“Oh?”

_ Oh. _

England shivered and threw his arms around the American, dropping his empty glass on the carpet. He captured his lips in a much more possessive kiss. America let out a surprised gasp, which was quickly followed with a pleased moan when he dropped his arms to hoist England up, allowing him to wrap his legs around America’s waist. 

America pulled away. “Wait. I’m sorry I dont want to push you any further if you don’t-.”

“ _ I do. _ ” England whispered breathlessly. 

America stiffened. “Really?”

“Oh my God,  _ America! _ ” England swiveled his hips a bit, emphasizing his urgency. “Get upstairs!”

The American let out a breathy moan, before taking off towards the stairs full speed. England gasped as he was clutched tighter into America’s chest as they ascended the stairs. America practically kicked the bedroom door off the hinges when the finally reached his room. 

England sighed when he was dropped on the bed. After shrugging off his hoodie, America climbed ontop of England, planting his hands on either side of England’s head. He bit his lip. “Um...you're not drunk, right?”

“I had  _ one _ glass of wine.”

America shrugged. “Was just making sure. I mean...I never thought you liked me in  _ this _ way.”

England raised an eyebrow. Did he even like America? Or was this just sex for the fun of it? Was this even going to be  _ sex _ ? He sighed. “America.” He sat up a bit, getting closer to the American’s face. “You are the most, kind, caring and thoughtful country I know...well after your brother.” America rolled his eyes. “What I’m saying is, yes, you can be an idiot sometimes and you can be  _ very _ arrogant-”

“Your point, England.”

England hooked his arms behind America’s neck. “I’ve  _ always  _ liked you America. I just didn't know how to show it.”

America smiled brightly. “Me too.” He kissed England and untangled England’s arms from behind his neck so he was laying under him again. Taking the sight of England’s face in one more time, he leaned down and began to pepper kisses along his jawline and neck, drawing short breathy gasps from the Brit. 

England smiled to himself. Oh yes, this was going to be a very good night. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first UsUk work so please, leave comments and tell me if you like it! All I ask is you be respectful to me and other people. Thank you for reading! :)


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